Happy Place
by MataAshita13
Summary: An assignment in my Applied Voice class inspired these. There are 2 versions, posted as 2 chapters. I guess it's a kind of free-verse poem. :P It's under Plays/Musicals because the boy in both versions is from the show Celtic Thunder.  3 guesses who
1. Chapter 1

**Happy Place **by Rebekah Faith

My "happy place"?  
Is she serious?  
How is making up a "happy place" going to help relieve stress?

Well, it's not like I have anything better to do for the rest of this class.  
I might as well try.

Let's see...

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and prepare to get my imagination in gear.

All right.  
Where to start?

Well...  
A warm breeze...  
Yes...  
I can smell some kind of wild flower.  
There is a field of them.  
They're everywhere, shining violet and sapphire in the midday sun, filling the air with their sweet scent.  
That warm breeze moves the tall grass like waves all along the hill on which I stand.

But one problem.

There is suddenly a tall willow tree to shade my eyes from the blinding sun.  
Much better.

Something is still missing...  
Something I have been avoiding...  
No way to get around it now.  
I let my mind and my heart draw a perfect picture of...

Him...

I feel a tug on my heart as he turns his crystal blue eyes to my mossy green ones.  
Oh how I'd tried to be happy without those deep pools filled with love and wanting.

Impossible.

He was standing in the sun, the light turning his chocolate curls into a honey brown.  
His white shirt was blinding.  
He approached, coming into the shade of the willow.  
My heart was excited, my breath coming quick and uneven.  
Then he touched me.  
One touch...  
A simple hand on my face.  
And everything stopped.

There was nothing left.  
Just him.  
I stared at his lips as he smiled.

Oh how I'd missed this...

And it wasn't real.

The field, tree, hill, and breeze came flooding back.  
My gaze darted around, my ears bombarded with the sound of the wind, and out-of-sight brook, birds, and other creatures making their presence known.  
Sunlight glinted off of some reflective surfaces in the distance.  
My "happy place" was suddenly an assault on my senses.  
Bright colors, loud sounds, strong smells...

A warm touch.

I focused my eyes on his again.

Could I really be remembering that love I see?  
Or is it my imagination amplifying a lie I used to believe?

It didn't matter right now.  
Because this was supposed to help me relax.  
He sat down on the ground and pulled me down next to him.  
I might as well go with it.  
This had always relaxed me...

When it was real.

He laid back on the ground and I laid my head on his shoulder.  
His arm immediately wound around my body, holding me to him.  
Oh how I had longed to feel this again.

I closed my eyes and let every muscle in my body unwind.

This...  
This was my happy place.  
It would probably cause great emotional distress later, but I was relaxed now.  
That was all I needed.  
It was all I wanted...  
The only thing that could make it better was if...

I smiled as I heard-and felt-him begin to sing.  
I had always loved this song, with its beautiful imagery and melody.  
And the first verse in its hauntingly beautiful Irish Gaelic.  
That was my favorite part.  
And he knew it.  
So he put it between every other verse, and wound up repeating it four times before finally ending with it.  
His voice put the birds to shame.

But it was that voice that took him away from me.

This was too much.  
I needed to get out.

I "unimagined" the world I had created around me.  
Getting rid of the field, the tree, the flowers.  
At last, it was just me and him.  
We sat up and he seemed to know what I was doing...  
Or perhaps I made him that way.

He looked at his shoes-Converse, as always.  
He seemed sad...

I decided I could get that "goodbye" I craved so desperately.  
I could tie together loose ends...  
And heal...

At least I hoped I could.

I didn't want to leave...

But I wanted to get back to reality.  
I didn't want to live in a fairytale that I know I made up.

He didn't have to say anything...  
I knew what he was thinking.  
It was _my_ imagination, after all.  
He had to follow through with a previous contract.  
I took his hand in mine.  
It was surprisingly soft and warm...  
Just like the rest of him.

"I shouldn't love you," I whispered.  
He nodded, but began to cry.  
"I know," he said.  
My heart melted at the sound of his deep voice.  
It was partly his accent that had attracted me to him in the first place.  
He sniffed a few times.  
"But I do."  
His eyes lifted to meet mine, tears threatening to spill over.  
My stomach clenched at the hope I saw in those eyes.  
Maybe that hope had really been there...

It's hard to tell over the phone.

I changed the environment to a more familiar one.

We now sat on a wooden swing in the yard of a small house.  
No one was home.  
The trees all around us were orange and red with autumn.  
The ground was covered with a moving river of leaves being carried by the wind.  
Squirrels darted from tree to tree, finding a place to hide their stash.  
A stray cat walked around a pothole in the road, seeking shelter from the wind.  
And as a finishing touch...

It began to rain.

How many times we would sit here in the rain, I don't know.  
But it seemed like not enough.  
The rain made his hair black and sleek, sticking to his face and into his eyes.  
His nose was flushing with the cold.

He was beautiful.

I was amazed and impressed by my ability to remember such details.  
Then again, I noticed them so often in reality.  
His eyes were a darker blue under the clouds.  
He seemed more at ease here.  
It was time for me to talk.

"I don't know why you left.  
I don't want to know why you left.  
All I know is that you did.  
And you didn't really say 'goodbye'  
So I fully expect you to come back and give me at least that.  
I've tried to be mad at you.  
I've tried to hate you.

"But I can't.

"I've tried to forget you.  
But it's impossible.  
I've tried to not miss you.  
But every single day, every moment, something in the world reminds me of you  
And I can't stand it.  
I want you back.  
There's no other way to say it.  
I want you..."

His fingers were combing through my hair, feeling it.  
He traced my jawline with the pad of his index finger.  
Then he outlined my lips.

"I'm sorry," he said.  
"I want you too..."  
He leaned in.  
I pushed away.

"Not here," I said.  
"I don't want to have to imagine that.  
I only want it if it's for real."  
He nodded.

"I understand."  
I smiled.

"I'll call you," I promised.  
He smiled.

"I'll hold you to it," he said and stood.  
He backed away, down the street.  
He stepped into the rain-filled pothole and almost fell backwards.  
I laughed.  
He laughed.  
I waved.  
He saluted.

I opened my eyes.

I was in my choir room.  
Everyone around me was still lying on their backs on the floor like me.  
The teacher was still talking.

"And everybody slowly turn over to your side, keeping your neck in line with the rest of your spine."

I did so.  
Wow...  
That was more like a dream than imagination...

I jumped when I felt my pocket vibrate.  
As soon as we were allowed to leave, I pulled out my phone.

"I'm coming home"...

That's all it said.

That's all I needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Happy Place: Version 2 **by Rebekah Faith

Our homework is to make up a "happy place"...  
How lame is that?  
But it has to be done.  
She described it as painting a picture...  
I could do that.

Let's see...  
In paintings, you always start with the background and work your way forward.  
So. a sky...  
A pinkish-purplish sunset...  
Tall mountains in the distance...

She said to incorporate all five senses...  
Well...  
A warm breeze...  
Birds chirping...

Let's add more visuals.  
We're in a valley-a field...  
Wild flowers are scattered around through tall grass swaying in the wind.  
A lone willow tree stands majestically, backlit by the sunset.

Let's see, sight?  
Check.  
Touch?  
Check.  
Sound?  
Check.  
Smell?...

The sweet scent of the wild flowers mixed with the musk of oncoming rain.

Check.

Taste?

Hmm...

Berry bushes mark a path along a stream in the distance.  
Those berries are bittersweet and tangy.

Check.

Now, we're supposed to give it motion...  
So, more like a movie than a painting.  
She said to make it our ideal place.

Well, I like music...

Specifically...

The tall boy stands there, looking perfectly at ease.  
I wanted to put excruciating detail into this part of my "happy place."

He was roughly six feet tall.  
His dark hair was cut almost short, but still long enough to curl around his neck and ears.  
His eyes shone crystal blue in the twilight.  
A slight smirk was placed on his lips.

He was leaning against the willow tree with the sleeves of his plaid button-up rolled up to his elbows.

In a twisted attempt at humor, bagpipes sounded in the distance.

He laughed lightly, showing his perfect teeth.  
To finish off my ideal place, he began to sing...  
In Irish Gaelic.  
His deep voice echoed in the valley...

To recap my creation: field, flowers, willow tree, sunset, mountain backdrop, breeze, birds, berry bushes, stream, distant bagpipes, and he is there singing in a beautifully unique language...

The only thing missing...

Is me.


End file.
